


Hey, Mr. DJ

by allwaswell16



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alcohol, Alpha Louis Tomlinson, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Anal Fingering, Chicago (City), Clubbing, DJ Louis Tomlinson, Drinking, First Meetings, Fluff, Humor, Kissing, M/M, Meet-Cute, Omega Harry Styles, Oral Sex, Oranges, POV Harry Styles, Prompt: Foot, Quirky Harry, Smut, Wordplay Challenge 3.0, barefoot, best man speech
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-25
Updated: 2019-06-25
Packaged: 2020-05-15 14:01:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,513
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19297198
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/allwaswell16/pseuds/allwaswell16
Summary: Harry really, really does NOT want to go out to a club tonight and be hassled by a bunch of alpha knotheads, but against his better judgement, he finds himself alone on the dance floor, barefoot, with an orange in his hand. This is all Niall's fault. At least the DJ is the most strikingly gorgeous alpha he's ever seen...





	Hey, Mr. DJ

**Author's Note:**

> I've decided that each of the Wordplay fics I write for the next five weeks will all be a/b/o fics, so here is the first of them! It's an alpha Louis/omega Harry pairing, but my plan is to do a different type of a/b/o pairing each week, although they'll all be Larry fics. We only have a week to write each fic, so each one will likely be around 5k, but who really knows how long they will be? Not me. haha. Hope you enjoy them and thank you for reading! <3
> 
> This is part of a Wordplay prompt challenge for the prompt "foot". To read the amazing fics that were written by the others on this prompt, [click here](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/foot), and to see all fics written as part of the challenge (including years 1 and 2), [click here](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/wordplay_fic_challenge/works). You can also find the masterpost for this year’s challenge [here](https://wordplayfics.tumblr.com/post/185709101043/wordplay-2019-every-week-for-five-weeks-a-prompt).

 

Although Harry doesn’t know it yet, one day he’ll thank Niall for never keeping his promises.

As for now though, Harry bangs his shopping cart into the refrigerated case as he pulls his phone from his pocket. It’s been blowing up since he walked into the grocery store a few minutes ago, and the only thing he has in his cart so far is an orange and the pre-made cookie dough he just pulled out of the case.

There are two hundred thirty-seven messages in the group chat he has with his roommate and their friends. With a sigh and a plea towards the heavens, or rather the tall ceiling of the Jewel-Osco grocery store, he swipes out of the Whatsapp group without bothering to read any of the messages and calls Niall.

“We’re headed to Boystown, bitch!” is the greeting Harry receives when Niall answers the phone.

“No.” He presses two fingers to the top of his nose to relieve the pressure. He knows where this is going.

There’s a clattering sound as though Niall has dropped the phone. Great, so they’ve already started drinking. “What? Why? It’s Friday night! Harold E. Styles, put on your booty shorts and your body glitter and get your ass over here.”

“I don’t own any booty shorts or glitter for that matter, and you’re just going to go hook up with some rando alpha while I’m left to my own devices--again.”

“That’s what Liam and Zayn are for! You won’t be alone! Come on, Harry! You have to come! Won’t be the same without you!” There’s the sound of a car door. Good. Maybe they’re already on their way without him.

“Liam and Zayn are hooking up with _each other_! How will I not end up alone on the dance floor again surrounded by horny alphas?”

“I promise not to leave you alone, H! Just come, please! You need to get out of the house once in a while.”

He knows Niall has a teensy tiny point. He does keep to himself quite a lot. It’s just that he’s so over being hounded by knotheads whenever he goes out anywhere. He’s thankful that his job as a children’s librarian in the suburbs of Chicago means that he’s mostly surrounded by other omegas and their children. Even most of the library staff are omegas or betas.

It’s not even that Harry has such a high opinion of himself that he thinks every alpha wants to knot him. He knows his curls frizz in the humidity of a Midwestern summer, he’s a bit tall and lanky for an omega, and his personality might best be described as--quirky, but he seems to have a very potent scent that seeps through even the most expensive, best scent blockers. He knows he could go for a hormonal option, but he really doesn’t want to do that just yet. He quite likes his own scent, orange blossoms with a hint of sweet vanilla, and it’s not fair that he should have to completely block it just for alphas who can’t keep their noses to themselves.

In any case, this is why he grocery shops on Friday nights when no one else is around. He’d been looking forward to baking some cookies and curling up on the couch with an old Meg Ryan romantic comedy. Maybe _Sleepless in Seattle_ ? Maybe _You’ve Got Mail_?

He’s brought back to the present by Niall’s voice in his ear. “Harry, please come! We’ll go to Molly’s! You can hang out at the bar with Ed as a last resort!”

“Well--”

“Yes! See you there! We’ll meet you there in twenty minutes.”

“Wait, what? But I’m not ready to--” He stops when he realizes Niall has already hung up. With a sigh, he glances down at what he’s wearing. A black and white floral blouse and black dress trousers, a pair of black boots that are pinching his toes a bit now after a long day at work. He supposes if he undoes a few buttons of his shirt, he could look like he’s going out for the night. It’s not like he’s looking to impress anyone.

He reluctantly takes the cookie dough out of the cart, but decides to take the orange with him. Just in case he gets hungry. It’s not like Molly’s has anything to eat there. He puts the cart in the return, buys the orange, and heads out to catch an Uber to Boystown.

 

The scene at Molly’s is a familiar one, although he doesn’t often come out anymore. The hulking bouncer only shrugs at the orange in his hands and lets him through. One of the benefits of being an omega, no one is going to turn him away from a club. The dance floor is crowded, the bar is surrounded with people, and a DJ plays dance music from his perch above the dance floor.

He starts making his way through the crowd looking for his friends, eventually making his way to the bar where he sees Ed and Molly serving up drinks to the masses. The mix of smells in the close quartered space makes him a bit twitchy, but he knows it’s just because he hasn’t been out like this in so long that he isn’t used to it.

There’s really only one way to make this better.

He squeezes in to the very end of the bar and prays for Ed to see him. It only takes a minute or two before Ed does a double take and strides over towards him.

“Harry! You actually left the house!”

He rolls his eyes. “Yes, I know. I’m basically a hermit now.”

“Well, whatcha want? It’s on the house in honor of you actually showing your face around here.”

He smiles. Ed’s really the only thing he misses about this place. “Oh. Uh--thanks, Ed. I’ll have a gin and tonic with a lime.”

Ed glances down at the orange he sets on the bar. “Guess you’re in the mood for fruit tonight.”

Harry just shrugs as Ed goes to make his drink. He turns to look back over the crowd in hopes of finding his friends sometime soon. He wonders if they’re out on the dance floor. The roving spotlight suddenly illuminates the DJ, and he gets a flash of an intriguing face before the light is gone again. He’s left with the impression of sharp angles and shaggy hair.

“Here ya go, Harry! Extra limes to go with your orange.”

He turns at the sound of Ed’s voice and lifts his glass in thanks before Ed is off to serve the rest of the customers surrounding the bar.

When he turns back around to search the dance floor, he’s instead met with the bulky chest of some alpha. He’s already rolling his eyes when the alpha says, “Hi, sweetheart, let me buy you a drink.”

He holds the drink that he hasn’t even taken a sip of yet and motions to it with his orange in the other hand. “Just got one, but thanks.”

The alpha doesn’t move.

Harry sighs and tries again. “I am not interested in any drink from an alpha I don’t know, and anyway, I know the bartender and my drinks are free, so as I was--”

“Why do you have an orange?”

“Oh. Well, I like oranges. They’re delicious and nutritious and you can do a lot of play on words with oranges.”

He looks up at the alpha’s face now, which is creased with confusion.

“You know like, _orange you glad to see me_?”

No sign of recognition crosses the alpha’s face, but he does move aside to let Harry pass. He’ll take it as a win.

He decides to go ahead and make his way onto the dance floor. That’s probably where they’ve ended up, and he’s never going to find them unless he actually moves into the crowd. He’s been in the bar long enough that the smell is no longer overwhelming as he begins to make his way through. A small shriveled silver lining, he supposes.

He expects to get harassed by every alpha he passes, but then something amazing happens.

One by one, an alpha approaches, notices his drink in one hand and the orange in the other, and backs away. Huh. Interesting. It’s almost like the orange is an alpha repellant. He holds the orange up more visibly in front of him, and the crowd actually parts a bit in front of him. Amazing. Apparently, holding fruit aloft in a club marks him as odd enough to stay away from, and he’s never been happier about being a little weird.

He takes a few long sips of his drink and smiles as he looks for his friends. The smile slips off his face when he finally spots Niall with an alpha’s tongue down his throat, and Zayn and Liam grinding against each other nearby. He downs the rest of his drink. Well, it’s not like he didn’t know this is how the night would go.

He moves back through the crowd towards the bar to get another drink, dancing to the beat as he goes. Club music isn’t usually his kind of thing, but he’s enjoying the mix this DJ is playing. He keeps the orange handy and bops his head as he waits for Ed to notice him at the bar again.

A gin and tonic slides across the bar to him with a grin on Ed’s face. “Cheers!” he says as he takes a sip and heads back onto the dance floor.

His friends may be preoccupied, but he can actually dance without being pawed at and he’s going to take full advantage. There’s such freedom in being able to dance like this that he finds his inhibitions lowering. It’s a bit awkward to freely dance with both a drink and an orange. He obviously can’t ditch the orange, so he quickly downs his drink again and sets it on a table near the wall.

Much better. Now, he’s free to use his arms more fully, and he waves his arms in the air turning on the spot. He does a small twirl and finds himself facing the DJ booth. The spotlight hits the DJ again right at that moment, and it’s like a lightning bolt to Harry’s brain. From far away the man had seemed intriguing, but up closer like this he’s breathtaking.

Someone jostles him, and he realizes he’s been just standing still staring at the DJ for who knows how long. Before he can think better of it, he finds himself climbing up to the booth to request a song, anything to get a closer look.

The DJ notices him and smiles. Harry’s hand darts to his heart as if to still the pounding of it. He’s unfortunately chosen the hand with the orange, and it thumps against his chest. He hadn’t been sure the DJ was an alpha until he takes a headphone off one ear and leans in to hear Harry’s request.

A sharp citrus scent hits his nose, and his body instinctively leans in further to the smell. A softer wash of lavender and then something woodsy, cedar maybe, draws him in even further. He’s never smelled anything as good as this alpha. He would climb into this man’s lap this very moment if he could. Maybe he’s had too much to drink.

“Hey, love. You got a request?”

“Huh?”

The alpha’s eyebrows lift a bit, opening his eyes a bit more. Even in this dim light, he can tell they’re blue. And glorious. And lovely. And he could drown in them. And they’re looking at him like he’s lost it. Right. A request.

“Uh--got any--” His mind is blank. All he can see are gorgeous blue eyes and smell the heavenly alpha before him. “--Elvis Presley?”

If he could facepalm right now without smacking himself with an orange, he would.

“Sorry, love. Don’t have any Elvis.” The alpha is smiling again though. His eyes crease in the cutest way.

He frantically tries to think of someone appropriate to ask him to play. His mind is full of ridiculous suggestions, Pink Floyd, Paul McCartney, Patsy Cline. Fuck, what’s wrong with him? “Steve Aoki!” He blurts out.

The cutest alpha alive points at him and nods. “Yeah, yeah, yeah! I’ve got Steve. Particular song you’ve got in mind?”

Harry shakes his head. “Any of them!”

He stumbles down to the dance floor and picks a spot where he can have a good view of the DJ. He lets himself really let go and move to the music. He thinks the alpha is watching him, so he tries his best to give him a little show. He wonders if the orange in his hand is ruining the effect though.

A song comes on that must be Steve Aoki because the DJ points to him and nods. His inner omega preens at having been noticed. He tries to up his dancing game a little more, but he’s feeling a little tipsy. He really should have eaten something and not had two drinks on an empty stomach, or has he had three drinks? He can’t remember. When the song ends, he goes to get another drink, his trusty orange letting him move fairly easily back to the bar.

By the time he makes his way back to a good spot to watch the DJ--er, a good spot to dance--his toes begin to throb, pinched in the boots he’s wearing. They’re definitely hindering his ability to really move the way he wants to. He glances around and sees an unoccupied table off to the side of the dance floor. He sets his drink and his orange on a table and leans against it as he unzips his boots, one by one, leaving them beneath the table.

He slides out onto the dance floor and nearly falls on his ass. Frowning down at his socks, he realizes he’ll just have to go for it. He heads back to the table and then tugs them off and sticks them in his pockets.

Normally, his toes would get stepped on being barefoot in a club, but everyone’s giving him a wide enough berth that he’s able to dance quite freely without that worry. And now, he’s sure the DJ can see him. He tries to move his hips suggestively, but his drink sloshes a bit. After a few more sips, it’s at a more manageable level, but it’s hard to be sexy with both a drink and an orange in his hand. He sucks down the drink quickly and plunks the empty cup down on the nearest table, wondering briefly which table he left his boots under, before he makes his way back to his prime DJ-watching dancing position.

Something at the back of his mind reminds him that he’s not had anything to eat for hours. If he’s going to be able to sustain his dancing now that he’s had three--or was it four?--drinks, he’s going to need to eat something. He frowns down at the orange. He’s going to have to sacrifice it if he’s going to impress the DJ. He continues dancing a bit as he unpeels the orange, sticking parts of the peel in his pockets with his socks. He’s still bopping away as he eats the orange in segments. He’s not sure if the DJ is watching, he’s got to concentrate on eating the orange while dancing and that’s enough to keep him busy for now.

The only problem with this plan becomes apparent as soon as he’s done eating the orange and wiping his hands off on his pants.

“Hey, darling.” Uh oh.

“Wow, you smell incredible.” Rude.

“Did you fall from heaven? Because you look like an angel.” Sigh.

He scurries back up to the DJ booth. The DJ nods to him in acknowledgement and slips his headphones off one ear. “Back for another request?”

“Um--yeah.” His mind gives him more ridiculous suggestions. Blaze Foley, Ray Charles, Van Morrison. “More Steve Aoki?”

The DJ’s lips twitch like he’s trying to hide a smile. “Yeah, which song?”

Harry grimaces. “Uh--you pick.”

“What’s your name?”

“Is that the name of the song?” He wonders aloud.

“No, love. What’s your actual name?”

“Oh. It’s Harry.”

“Well, Harry. I’m Louis. Nice to meet you. I have a few questions for you.”

“Okay.” Harry nods, eager to keep talking to Louis, the hot DJ.

“One, are you here alone tonight? Because I’m a little worried about your safety.”

Harry plunks an elbow down and rests his chin in his hands. “No, my friends are here. They’re all _preoccupied_ though.” He makes air quotes around preoccupied.

Louis frowns as though he doesn’t like the answer. “Okay, two, do you actually know any songs by Steve Aoki?”

Harry smiles sheepishly. “Not really. But I sort of needed to escape the dance floor just now.”

“Mmm, yeah I figured because I just put on another Steve song for you, and you didn’t seem to notice.” Harry crinkles his nose. “Three, I just have to ask about the orange.”

“Oh! Well, see my friends begged me to come out while I was out grocery shopping, so I brought it with me in case I got hungry. I really should have eaten more though because the drinks kind of went to my head a bit. And now my orange is gone.” He pouts a bit at the thought. “And it was doing such a good job of letting everyone know I’m weird and not to bother me, but then I ate it so I could dance better for you and now my orange alpha repellent is gone.”

Louis throws his head back with laughter. It’s the best thing Harry’s ever seen. Louis laughs with his whole body, and he feels proud that he’s made him laugh this hard.

“Well, Harry, your orange did not repel me, and my set ends at midnight. Would you like to go get something to eat with me when I get off?”

He can hardly believe it. He’s danced around with an orange all night, and somehow the only alpha he’s been interested in in a long time wants to spend more time with him. “I’d like that. Maybe I’ll be sober by then, too.”

Louis laughs again. “Yeah, let’s hope so. I’m thinking you may want to go rescue your boots eventually. They’re under that table.” Louis points across the room, and Harry squints hard but thinks he sees them. He’d forgotten he’s barefoot. No one else seems to be barefoot. That’s probably another weird thing he’s done. Louis doesn’t seem put off though, so he shrugs and lets himself into the DJ booth.

He spends the next hour helping Louis DJ and only returns to the dance floor to grab his boots and walk across the room to the bar to get a bottle of water. When the clock strikes midnight, he’s much more sober and remembers to text his friends that he did indeed come out tonight, not that they’d noticed, and he’ll be going to hang out with the gorgeous DJ now, which is the only reason he forgives them.

 

Louis looks even more beautiful under the brighter lights of the all night diner around the corner from the club.

He’s more interesting this way, too, when he can actually hear the rasp in his voice and listen to him talk about all his sisters and his brother. He likes the way Louis’ face lights up when he talks about his job as a sound engineer at a music studio. He likes the way Louis actually listens to his long winded stories about the library. He likes the way they laugh together and talk into the wee hours of the morning.

Harry munches on some cheese fries, and Louis reaches across the table to tuck an errant curl behind his ear. His heart flutters at the contact.

“I don’t want the night to end,” Louis admits.

“Me either,” Harry says, thinking about what he should say next. He doesn’t really do one night stands, but this doesn’t feel like one. This feels like the beginning of something, but even if he’s wrong, he doesn’t think he could regret a night with Louis. “I’m gonna get an Uber.”

Disappointment flashes across Louis’ face for a moment before it quickly vanishes and is replaced with a soft smile. “Good, I wouldn’t want you going home on public transport this time of night and without an orange for protection.”

He can’t control the honk snort that he quickly tries to stifle with a hand clapped over his face. Louis’ grin just grows wider at the sound, so maybe it’s okay. “Well, maybe I could use a little extra protection, if you know any alphas who might want to escort me home. I prefer ones with blue eyes, long hair, insanely handsome, funny, interesting, really into music--”

“Wow, that’s a tall order. Not sure if I know anyone like that.” Louis’ crinkled eyes smile nearly does him in.

Harry reaches across the table to grab Louis’ hand.

“Come home with me?” He whispers. Louis’ nearly shut eyes dart wide open.

“Uh, yeah, um, yes, let’s--” Louis jumps up from the table, knocking the salt shaker to the floor. Harry laughs as a stain of pink flushes across Louis’ face, but he’s very glad to see he’s not the only eager one.

The ride back to his apartment is--interesting. Louis takes his hand and lays it open on his thigh as he begins tracing the lines of his palm, softly with just the light press of his fingertips. Harry gasps at the sensation. Louis leaves his hand resting there as he caresses Harry’s wrist with his thumb.

The slight touch of skin upon skin sends shivers across his skin, and the heady mix of their scents in the small space makes his head spin. The Uber driver coughs as though he can smell the arousal between them. He can feel himself getting wet, and he moans a bit pitifully.

Louis seems to suddenly realize what he’s caused and stills the torture of his fingers. “Sorry, love.”

Thankfully, Harry’s building appears in the darkness and the Uber stop to let them out. He pulls Louis along by the hand, looking back to see Louis’ darkened eyes in the gleam of the streetlamps. He walks a little faster.

They walk up two flights of stairs to he and Zayn’s apartment, which he knows he’ll have to himself tonight if Zayn’s with Liam. Louis’ hand rests at the small of his back as he tries to fit the key in the hole, and he’s melting into his touch, making it a bit hard to wrestle the door open.

Once inside the dark apartment, he just about drops to his knees for Louis right there on the doormat, but Louis is trying to look around the place even in the dark. Harry flicks a switch so that the lamp across the room comes on.

“I like your place,” Louis says glancing at the art on the walls.

“Mm, yeah, it’s okay.” Harry wishes he’d do something, push him against the door or bend him over the couch. _Something_.

His boots pinch again, and Harry bends over to unzip them and slip them off. When he straightens up and turns back, Louis is no longer looking at the apartment and is definitely back to staring at him. His eyes that are such a gorgeous shade of blue have darkened into something that makes Harry’s heart pound in response.

“Harry?” Louis’ voice sounds rougher than before, less in control.

“Yeah?”

“I need to know what you want. We can just have a cuddle on the couch with a movie if you want or we can--”

Harry steps forward, moving into Louis’ space. He reaches for him, sliding his hands up and around Louis’ shoulders. “Or you could fuck me.”

“Christ,” Louis hisses just before he pushes forward trapping Harry against the wall and kissing him with a hunger that matches his own.

Harry yields to his mouth, his tongue, his body as Louis presses him between himself and the wall. Desire runs thick in his veins as he moans against Louis’ lips, feeling the press of Louis thigh between his legs and his hands at the small of his back. He feels the wet heat of his slick dampening his pants and pushes Louis away, still breathless.

Louis looks dazed as he pulls away. “You okay?”

Harry just nods, keeping his eyes focused on Louis’ as he slowly unbuttons his shirt and slips it off his shoulders, letting it pool at his feet. Louis’ eyes rove over his body, and it makes Harry feel more powerful than he’s felt in some time to have this alpha’s attention on him like this. He slowly unbuttons and unzips his pants and slowly slides them to the floor, leaving on his slick-wet tight black boxer briefs.

He steps out away from the wall and begins walking through the hallway towards his bedroom, crooking his finger at Louis as he goes. Louis follows behind him mesmerized, and Harry can’t stop the smirk from crossing his face.

He perches at the edge of the bed and motions for Louis to come closer until Louis is looming over him. He holds Louis’ gaze as he reaches for the button and zipper of Louis’ jeans. He hears him gasp and feels his muscles tighten beneath his fingers. He moves his hands beneath Louis’s shirt and rucks it up a bit until Louis gets the hint and quickly tugs it up and over his head, tossing it to the floor. Louis stares down at him, watching as Harry tugs his jeans down over his thighs.

“Fuck,” Louis says as Harry licks his lips at the sight of Louis hard in his boxers, the outline of his cock right before him, his thighs thick with muscle. The smell of him is incredible or maybe it’s the combining of their scents that makes his head spin, but he knows Louis feels the same when he shakes his head as if to clear it. “Go lay back on the pillows.”

Harry scrambles backwards on the bed to quickly comply and takes off his boxers for good measure, flinging them to the floor.

Louis voice rasps as he speaks, quiet and much lower than it has been all night. “I’m not going to knot you, Harry.”

Harry could almost cry he wants it so bad. His lips press into a pout, and Louis laughs.

“Oh, love, don’t worry. I’ll take care of you, I promise. I’ll go slow, take you apart piece by piece, but I’m not knotting you until we’re really together.”

Part of him wants to insist on taking Louis’ knot, but he definitely likes the way Louis is talking as if this isn’t a one time thing. Louis crawls up the bed towards him, a cat-like prowl as he positions himself between Harry’s legs. He finds himself repositioned on the pillows as Louis tries to make him accessible. It’s quite a vulnerable position, but he forgets all that as soon as Louis thumbs over his wet hole.

Pleasure shoots through him and he clutches at the pillows at either side of him as Louis runs his fingers through his slick and rubs torturous circles around his rim. Louis shuffles up beside him now, capturing his lips in a rough kiss as he slides one finger slowly into him, murmuring against his lips. “So gorgeous, love. So beautiful for me.”

Harry whimpers as Louis’ finger pushes further inside him slowly, so so slowly. The ache for something more builds up within him. And then, Louis’ mouth moves from Harry’s lips and travels to his neck, his tongue reaches his mating spot and licks over it once, twice, and Harry gasps as he tries to push back down onto Louis’ finger inside him.

Louis’ finger leaves him then and he cries out with the loss, but it’s only gone for a moment before a second finger joins the first and enters his slick wet hole again. They move within him, finding his spot as Louis’ tongue and lips and teeth find Harry’s stiff nipples. Harry cries out, nearly incoherent with want, a string of nonsense along with Louis’ name.

Louis’ breath puffs against the skin of his chest as his fingers press again and again within him. “Louis, Louis, Louis.”

“You okay, love?” Louis asks against the skin of his hip as he presses a kiss there.

“Yes! God, yes! Please, please--”

“You can let go with me, Harry.”

Harry just whimpers and clutches harder at the pillows as he arches back onto Louis’ fingers, writhing as his fingers fuck into him. His eyes fly open and he jerks up when he feels the wet heat of Louis’ mouth surrounding him. Their gazes meet and there’s an odd expression of possession there in Louis’ eyes.

Harry pants heavily, the sight of what’s happening almost as overwhelming as the feeling of Louis’s fingers inside him as his mouth slides around his cock. “I’m gonna--I’m gonna--Louis--I’m--”

Louis’ lips pop off him. “I want to see you come.”

And then, his hand slowly strokes him as the other still works his fingers inside him. “God, you’re lovely. Come for me, Harry.”

Harry thrusts forward into Louis’ hand and then back onto his fingers as his orgasm crashes through him. He comes with Louis’ name on his tongue, his fingers inside him, and his hand wrapped around him, and it’s the hardest he’s ever come in his life.

Harry’s still panting for breath as Louis slides his fingers out and licks them clean, a wicked smile on his face as though he knows how well wrecked Harry is now. Ruined, Harry thinks. Ruined for anyone else.

It’s then that he realizes that Louis’ still wearing his boxers as he sits back on his heels before him, still hard and leaking a damp spot into the red fabric that’s barely containing him. He watches intently as Louis slides them down just to his thighs, releasing himself from their constraints. Harry’s mouth waters at the sight of his thick cock, bulging at the base with his knot. If he weren’t fucked out, he’d do something about it.

Louis gazes down at his body laid out before him, wet with slick and come streaked across his stomach. Louis pumps his hand over himself, his breathing harsh as he stares down at Harry.

“Fuck, Harry. Look so good like this.” Louis doesn’t have to stroke himself for very long before he’s coming on Harry, their come mixing now on his skin, as he shouts out at his release.

Louis nearly collapses next to him on the bed, gathering him into his arms. They should really clean up a bit, but Harry doesn’t mind a bit of cuddling first even if it’s a bit messy. Louis presses a kiss to his forehead, a bit damp with sweat, although Louis doesn’t seem to mind. In fact, he threads his fingers through his curls, twirling them and letting them spring back.

“Do you like pancakes?”

Harry crinkles his nose in confusion. This is a little odd for pillow talk. “Uh, yeah?”

“Good, I’ll make you some in the morning.”

Harry hides his smile against Louis’ chest. He’s glad Louis’ already planning on staying over. “You can cook then?”

“Not very well,” Louis huffs out a laugh that blows the hair off his forehead. “But pancakes I can do. Sort of.”

“I’ll teach you,” Harry murmurs. “I’m a great cook.”

“Mm, might take me awhile to catch on.” Louis pulls him more tightly against him. “If you think you’re still willing. Could take years even. There’s a lot I’d like to learn to cook.”

“Really?” Harry shifts a bit in his arms, his heart thumping a bit harder at the thought of all this.

“Yeah, maybe oh, I don’t know--Orange Chicken, orange cookies, orange bread, orange cake--can you put oranges in pancakes?”

“Oh, shut up,” Harry says as Louis laughs, his eyes crinkled shut.

 

**### Epilogue ###**

 

Niall tinkles a fork against the champagne flute until he has the attention of the audience. Everyone looks up at the head table.

“Hello, friends and family of Harry and Louis!” Niall says loudly into the microphone. “I’m Niall, Harry’s best man and best friend since childhood and the very reason that these two lovebirds sit before us today, newlyweds in love.”

Niall takes a dramatic pause for everyone to applaud.

“Thank you. Thank you very much. Yes, I have a little story to tell you about that night, nearly two years ago now. It involves an orange, Harry walking around barefoot at a club, and let’s be real, a generous amount of alcohol--”  


**Author's Note:**

> If you enjoyed this, please leave kudos and comments! And if you can [reblog the fic post for me](https://allwaswell16.tumblr.com/post/185842385556/hey-mr-dj-an-abo-fic-by-allwaswell16-words) or retweet [this tweet](https://twitter.com/all_was_well_16/status/1143580922278793217), I'll love you forever! <3
> 
> Thank you so much to my beta, [taggiecb](https://archiveofourown.org/users/taggiecb/pseuds/taggiecb), my writing soulmate and best friend, for always holding my hand through every fic I write. xx
> 
> Thanks to [Sus](https://lululawrence.tumblr.com/) for running this challenge for the last three years and of course, for being such a wonderful friend. <3
> 
> This fic was somewhat based on this [post](https://allwaswell16.tumblr.com/post/185546590616/happy-pride-month-kings-he-was-fucking-just-eating).


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